


What a Cliché

by Shnanners



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Hence the title, M/M, and stupid, and such a cliché, cas makes a brief appearence, dean is mentioned like once, pls forgive me, this is really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shnanners/pseuds/Shnanners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gabriel is a mess (as usual) but it somehow works out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Cliché

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dillpickle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillpickle/gifts).



> This was supposed to be done at Christmas of last year but I am a Piece of Shit™ so it is done now almost a year later.
> 
> All of these characters are not mine and this makes me sad but facts are facts.

_ ♫ Pour some sugar on me… ♫ _

 

_ *crash* _

 

“Guh… wha…??”

 

Gabriel pushed himself up from his new residence on the floor, rubbing his head, and looked around the room, trying to reorient himself with his surroundings, before the sounds of Def Leppard alerted him to his ringing phone and his unplanned wakeup call.

 

Gabe quickly looked around and grabbed his phone from the side table behind him, groaning when he saw his little brother’s face light up the screen. Shoving down his annoyance, he accepted the call.

 

“Whaddya want Cas?” Okay, maybe he didn’t really succeed with the whole ‘shoving down his annoyance’ thing. But hey. He’d tried.

 

“Good afternoon to you as well, Gabriel.” Gabe blinked.  _ Afternoon? _ Glancing up at the clock, he saw that it read 3:12 pm.  _ Huh. _

 

Apparently he was thinking too slowly for Castiel’s taste, because he spoke again before Gabriel had the chance to respond. “I take it from your current silence and altogether grumpy demeanor that you have just woken up, correct?”

 

Gabe harrumphed. “So what if I did? Why do you care?”

 

“I had merely assumed that by now you would already have visited me and retrieved my car. You did say that you would do it this morning, did you not?”

 

“....Um. I did? Why?”

 

Cas audibly sighed. “You do realize what day it is, do you not?”

 

Gabe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the date. “Uh,” he responded (quite eloquently, if he did say so himself), “Saturday?”

 

He could practically hear Castiel’s eyeroll through the phone. “Yes, Gabriel, today is Saturday. As in the day that Sam is meant to return from his break and you are to pick him up from the airport. At 7 o’clock tonight, less than four hours from now, to be exact.”

 

_ Oh. Well. Shit. _

 

So maybe Gabe had kind of sort of forgotten about that. Not that he forgot about Sam! Lord knows, he could never forget about Sam. It was just the ah, Sam coming home  _ today _ part that he forgot about. Which was really stupid. Of all things in the world that he could have forgotten about, anything to do with Sam would usually be the last on the list.

 

Because here’s the thing: Gabe was kind of in love with the guy.

 

It’s not like it happened on purpose! Please, Gabe  _ knew _ what a stupid fucking cliche it was to fall for your roommate. And when his tall, attractive, Sasquatch of a friend had suggested that they move into a small apartment together for their sophomore year of college, Gabe had readily agreed, but promised himself that he’d squash the stupid little crush he had on Sam and not let it grow into anything bigger. He wouldn’t become  _ that guy _ .

 

He totally became that guy.

 

And it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to make it go away. It had honestly started out as a tiny crush. Mostly a ‘he’s nice and also attractive’ type thing. Like, yeah, he’d be more than fine with taking a roll or two in the hay with that fine specimen of a human, definitely, but it needn’t go further than that. But then… then they moved in together. Then they had shared space and saw each other all the time and learned more about each other and became not just friends but  _ best _ friends and… 

 

Well. With a guy like Sam, was it any wonder how that tiny little crush had blossomed into a great big one? And hell, Gabe even tried to shut that one down as soon as he noticed it pushing it’s way to the surface. But all attempts had, unfortunately for him, been in vain. He had eventually just gone and decided that denial was gonna be his best friend, but now, two and a half years later and moving into their final semester of senior year?

 

Yeah. He was ready to admit that denial had whole-heartedly failed him, and he was absolutely, positively, hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester.

 

Gabriel quickly pushed himself up from the floor and walked into the living room, shoving down both the nauseousness and the headache caused by his surprisingly small hangover from the night before.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered into the phone, glancing around the room.

 

To say it was a mess would have been the understatement of the millennium. The entire weekend Sam had been gone had essentially been one long pity party for Gabe, emphasis on party. It was his favorite way, usually, to cheer himself up. Throw a big party and get completely fucking trashed in order to forget about all of his problems.

 

Unfortunately that hadn’t worked so well this time. He didn’t remember too much, but he had a few very distinct memories that stood out. Namely crying all over his ex boyfriend Balthazar (and why the fuck was he even there?) about how in love he was with his stupid moose of a best friend. Also a bunch of people showing up that he did not know and had not invited. That uh. That probably had a lot to do with the state of the room.

 

He was brought back to the present by his brother’s voice in his ear trying to get his attention.

 

“Uh, Cas? I’m gonna have to call you back. I’ll uh, be there for your car in like, two, maybe two and a half hours. Yeah. Bye.” He hung up the phone and turned around to head back into his room, where he tossed it onto his bed.

 

Ugh. His room was also definitely a mess, but that could be dealt with later. First things first, he needed to shower and get rid of the stench of vodka and vomit and pining and whatever else kind of smells were sitting all over his body that he couldn’t identify. Then he could clean the apartment to the best of his ability in two hours. Sam hated it when the apartment was a mess. He was lucky there were no stragglers that were still hanging around, but he still didn’t have much time to clean. It was about a 15 minute walk from his to Cas’ place, and then about a 45 minute to an hour drive to the airport from there. He didn’t have any time to waste.

 

20 minutes later he was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, ready to start the arduous task of tidying up from a very long weekend. There were beer bottles and red solo cups spread all over the kitchen counter and coffee table and pretty much every other available surface, including the floor. There were chip bags littered across the apartment, some empty, some spilling their contents everywhere. He spotted a few lone shoes missing their other half, and that was definitely a pair of underwear on the lamp in the corner… and stuffed into the couch cushions… and uh, was that a bra on the ceiling fan?  _ Yikes _ . And that was just the beginning.

 

With one last huff, Gabe flipped on his speakers and stuck his phone in the dock, setting his music on shuffle. He grabbed a trash bag from under the sink and got to work on picking up the various garbage littering the apartment. And hour and three garbage bags later, he had successfully gotten all the garbage out of the way (including the lonely shoes and the three lost undergarments) and relocated all of the  _ many _ dirty dishes to the kitchen.

 

After discarding the bags in the chute down the hall, he grabbed the broom and dustpan from the closet and got to work on the chips and other food crumbs littering the floor, glancing at the clock as he did so. 4:37. Good. He still had at  _ least _ a good half hour before he had to head out.

 

He started sweeping just as a new song came on, and he couldn’t help but start to sing along.

 

_ I want you to want me _

_ I need you to need me _

_ I'd love you to love me _

_ I'm begging you to beg me _

 

He made his way across the room, getting more and more animated as he danced and sang along with his favorite upbeat but cheesy love song, coming to a stop in front of the pictures on the wall by the kitchen door. It had been a silly gift from Cas (and who knew the guy even knew what humor was) and Sam’s older brother Dean when they had first moved in. Their (truly awful) senior pictures from high school sitting large and proud in their brightly colored frames, greeting any and all visitors to their apartment with awkwardly smiling teenage faces.

 

Gabriel, for one, loved them.

 

Getting to the chorus of the song again, he couldn’t help but sing directly to Sam’s picture, using the broom as a microphone and pointing right at his adorable smiling face (what could he say, he’s a theatre major, it’s in his nature).

 

_ I want you to want me _

_ I need you to need me _

_ I'd love you to love me _

_ I'm begging you to beg me _

 

Engrossed as he was in the sweet sounds of Cheap Trick, he didn’t hear the front door open and close, or the footsteps come into the room, or even the light duffle bag dropped onto the floor by the couch. He did, however, hear the loud clearing of a throat from right behind him, and he quickly spun around, broom up, to face the stranger.

 

It was not a stranger. It was Sam. Sam who was not supposed to even land back in California for another two hours. Sam who was standing, arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised (in what Gabriel hoped was amusement), and staring right at him.

 

“You, I mean, you’re um…” Gabe stumbled over his words. “I mean, um. Seven! You’re getting in at seven.”

 

Sam’s face remained stubbornly unreadable as he shrugged and replied. “Changed my flight last minute. The later one was cancelled so I took an earlier one. I landed about an hour ago but figured you probably had plans for the day, so I just grabbed a cab back home.”

 

Gabriel just nodded. “Oh. Right. Um. Well then, uh, welcome back? How was your weekend?”

 

Sam dropped his arms and stepped close as he answered, causing Gabriel to gulp in nervousness. “My weekend was pretty good, thanks for asking. And while I’m equally curious about yours, I have a slightly more pressing question in mind.” He stopped inches away, causing Gabe to have to look up (and up and up) to meet his eyes.

 

“And that is…?”   
  


“You want me?” Sam asked, and if Gabe didn’t know better he’d almost say that was nervous hope in his eyes.

 

Of course, he did know better, so he couldn’t help his own very real nerves as he stumbled through his answer of, “um, I mean, maybe, kind of, sort of, very much so, yes?”   
  
Sam’s expression morphed into his thousand watt smile that never failed to make Gabe weak in the knees, and, oh boy, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, nor was he expecting Sam’s hands cradling his face as he leaned in, muttering a short and sweet “good, because I want you, too” against his lips before connecting them in a kiss Gabriel had simultaneously waited all of his life for and never thought he’d be lucky enough to get.

 

He had no idea how long they stood their kissing, his hand holding the broom loosely by his side. It felt like both just a few seconds and forever at the same time. All he knew was that when Sam pulled away and smiled at him, he had no choice but to smile back and breathe a quick  _ oh _ into the space that now separated them.

 

Sam kept smiling, and leaned in again for a quick peck, before pulling away again and taking a small step back. “Yeah, oh,” he responded, keeping his beaming face trained right on Gabe. “And I also really want to do that again,” he started, before letting his smile twist into an amused smirk. “But first I want you to do something else for me.”   
  
Gabe blinked before he responded. “Okay, yes, I can do that. I can do that first before we continue to do more of that thing we were doing before. Um, what is it you want me to do?”   
  
Sam’s smirk widened. “I want you… to clean the apartment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, endings are not my strong suit. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on tumblr @littleshnanners


End file.
